Demonic Love One-shot: Being Old
by Vickychan
Summary: This is just a DL one-shot I've had in my head for a while, and I finally got round to writing it. King Piccolo hates being old.


**Author's Note:-**  
I'm sorry, it's still not Living With Demons. I *will* continue that fanfic in the near future, I just want to get my other projects out of the way first. Thank you for being so patient with me. In the meantime... this is just a little Demonic Love one-shot I've had in my head for a while, I finally got the time to write it. Please leave me your feedback :) Thank you!

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 _Gasp. Pant_. King Piccolo moaned breathlessly, his head sweating against the black silk bed sheets of his chamber. His claws curled against the bed, tearing holes in its delicate fabrics as he writhed in ecstasy. His eyes were closed and his lips were parted as he gave his body to her. Frikiza. Her warmth surrounded him, her weight rocking him into elation as she moved above him. He ran his hands across her body, each touch of his calloused palms drawing a soft moan from her swollen lips. He pushed himself into her, groaning and curling as she used her tail on him, to the same end. He held onto her hips, soaking in their perfect roundness and the softness of her flesh… She was so soaked with sweat he could barely get a grip on her. He didn't think about his movements. Their minds were clear, so filled with passion that their bodies moved themselves, rhythmically and fiercely. Her lips pressed against his. Against his lips, against his neck… everywhere. He dug his claws into her, panting raggedly as her beautiful body carried him into true paradise. Yes… yes…

He opened his eyes, and Frikiza was nowhere in sight. At least… not the Frikiza that had been so passionately riding him. King Piccolo let out a harsh, dissatisfied growl. Fuck. He'd woken too soon… and that dream had been particularly enjoyable. He paused for a moment, and allowed his eyes to focus on the figure that was lying beside him in bed. The withered, aged figure. She was sleeping on her back; her horns made sleeping on her side almost impossible. King Piccolo hated them. Those ridiculous clumpy things. They were of no use to him anymore. Just look at them. Old and cracked… Didn't they used to shine so well? Frikiza used to maintain them, when she was younger. She would buff them down, getting rid of any little imperfections and making them gleam so deadly… They used to look like weapons. What were they now? Eroded rocks on the side of her old head. They were blunt, and grey. King Piccolo snorted in disgust. He extended his fingers, to trail them along a long crack in Frikiza's left horn… and he couldn't help but notice his own wrinkled hand. How disappointing. How could he look terrifying like this? He looked like an old cucumber! He hated it. He hated being old. He hated how their long, heated sessions of passion were a thing of the very distant past. He hated that she wore glasses to read, as if she didn't make it obvious enough that she was an old woman. He hated that his children felt the need to check on him every once in a while, on the off-chance that he'd died. That part didn't even make sense! They were telepathically linked, for Kami's sake! They'd know if he died! And what, did they think Frikiza wouldn't tell them? She spoke to the morons every day, as if she had anything exciting to talk about. She only did it to pass the time, because she was old and useless and had nothing better to do. … King Piccolo hated it. He _**hated**_ it!  
"How was I this time?" Frikiza's voice broke King Piccolo out of his loathing, only to put him back in it again when he thought about how that had changed too. She used to sound so sweet and innocent… What did she sound like now? An old mother, who was experienced and wise and not at all young and vulnerable. What was sexy about that?  
"Fantastic." King Piccolo replied bitterly, causing Frikiza to laugh a little. He always woke up so miserable after a sex dream… He was a miserable old bastard anyway, but remembering how exciting they used to be really pissed him off. She didn't feel the least bit of pity for him, though. He should just be grateful she'd stuck around after all these years, nobody else would. He was a horror to live with. His softness had peaked in their youth; after they were married and they were truly happy, King Piccolo had finally seemed settled… He'd even stopped talking about killing Goku for a while. He was actually fun to be around. Then they'd started to age, and things got boring… and he'd turned back into his old bitter self, always angry at the world and never appreciative of what he had. Tch. the bastard. Well leave him to it, if he wanted to wallow in his own self-pity. Frikiza wasn't about to entertain it.

She closed her eyes and attempted to go back to sleep, trying her best to ignore King Piccolo's obvious sulking. "You used to be sexy." His bitter voice ruined Frikiza's plans. Of course. He couldn't keep his anger to himself, he never could.  
"So did you." Frikiza growled back. "I'm not the one that can't get it up anymore."

All of a sudden he let out an almighty snarl, and before she could breathe Frikiza found King Piccolo on top of her, and not in a way that either one of them wanted. He had his claws against her throat. Her withered, feeble throat. She'd slacked off on her training many years ago, when their children had become strong enough to protect them. King Piccolo was more powerful than Frikiza now. He could kill her. Right now. He wanted to. Frikiza could sense it… She could see it in the way he was glaring at her, with those old dusty yellow eyes. He wanted to kill her, for insulting his manhood and damaging his pride. Tch. whatever. Let him. She wasn't scared of him. She'd loved her life, and she was happy to grow old and die like she was supposed to. If he wanted that to be today, then he was the one that would have to explain that to their family.

King Piccolo held his gaze on her, staring into her eyes. Her dimmed, dull eyes. They weren't even the same shade of red anymore. They looked like… muddy blood. Not fresh blood like they used to. They were old.  
"… I hate you." King Piccolo snarled.  
"Good." Frikiza replied. "I love you. Now go away." She pushed him, and he fell back against the bed without putting up a fight. Humph. The big idiot. Frikiza knew he wouldn't go through with it. When it came to her, his bark was _always_ worse than his bite. She was probably the only person in the world who could say that. Not that it was a good thing…  
"Why are you so happy?" King Piccolo demanded. "You look disgusting."  
"So do you." Frikiza answered back. "Like an old cucumber."  
"And you're happy with that?"

Frikiza looked at him, and laughed again, which enraged King Piccolo even further… if it were at all possible. Why was she laughing!  
"You're so ungrateful." Frikiza remarked. "We've had a wonderful life. Why would you want it to be any different?"  
"If it was so wonderful then why don't you want to be young again?" King Piccolo replied. "You could relive it."  
"Oh… no!" Frikiza huffed. "I couldn't be bothered with that." She moved herself over to him, and settled against his frame. "I'm too tired."  
"Because you're old." King Piccolo growled, and almost snapped her neck when Frikiza started laughing **again**. The bitch… What was wrong with her? She had dementia.

Frikiza closed her eyes, lightly dozing against the bitter warmth of her husband… when an almighty knock interrupted their entire morning.  
" _ **Grandma**_! _**Grandpa**_!"  
" _ **Are you awake**_?" Two young voices came from outside their bedroom, accompanied by a loud, hellish thudding against the door.  
"Little **bastards**!" King Piccolo snarled, violently pushing Frikiza away to get up.  
"Mm…" Frikiza groaned sleepily, unfazed by his aggression. "They're here already…?"  
"If we were young again, they wouldn't exist!" King Piccolo roared, climbing out of bed. "How can you not want that?"

Frikiza started sniggering to herself, highly amused by his remark.  
"Be nice to them." She spoke in vein, knowing the first thing King Piccolo would do would be to give each of his grandchildren a black eye. She heard the door opening, and then came their enthusiastic little voices…  
"Grandpa – _**ow**_!" The boys cried out, their screams accompanied by two harsh thuds and the sound of breaking bones.  
"Fuck off!" King Piccolo roared. "Where are you parents? _**Tambourine**_?" He bellowed down the corridor, while Frikiza remained laughing to herself against the bed. He was so damn grumpy! He must be the only grandfather in the world that didn't adore seeing his grandchildren! "Come and teach these little shits some manners!" Frikiza laughed even harder at that. Poor Tambourine. One of the boys wasn't even his. " **Tambourine**!"  
"Pickle…" Frikiza smiled, closing her eyes as she listening to King Piccolo losing it. Ah, he was funny… His anger at everything was so funny. How could he not be one hundred percent satisfied with this life?  
" _ **Tambourine**_!" King Piccolo's voice almost shattered the entire mansion to the ground.


End file.
